


Stillness

by westenralucy (queenex)



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Blood Drinking, M/M, i love writing vampire jeremiah fics because he actually might be one, jeremiah is a vampire, vampire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 10:06:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15117140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenex/pseuds/westenralucy
Summary: "Do you believe in..." Jeremiah stops with his blood red lips ready to continue, but they don't. From a form of o they curl into a smile, white teeth showing. Bruce just stands there like a statue, unable to move or say anything. "I'll show you."





	Stillness

**Author's Note:**

> This is a VERY short oneshot of Bruce and Jeremiah meeting at some point after Gotham is destroyed and well.. Jeremiah just being Jeremiah, but vampire.

Turns out not only the sun can be blinding.

Heavy steps of Bruce's expensive shoes echo is Gotham's dead, empty streets, filled only with smoke and smell of trash. The weather is surprisingly nice, dry and warm with wind passing by from time to time. Even with all people gone you can almost hear the cars beeping, see crowds of people waiting near the traffic light. Though Bruce is a rare guest in Gotham's narrows and the living area and was used to quiet, relaxing manor of his, he nearly missed the busyness and chaos.

But the chaos was where he was going. Even standing outside the building that's address was written on a creasy peace of paper in an almost unreadable handwritting, he could smell the trouble and chaos coming right from it. It dwelled in mystery, but if it wasn't what Bruce wanted he wouldn't have come. He eyes the paper, sweaty from his hands which he's been holding for an hour now, all the way to this place

_9 p.m Carol street 28. Come alone._

_⎯_ _J._

As he looks up, he can see a tall, black abandoned building. A creepy place, indeed, but exactly Jeremiah's taste. The man had a weakness for skyscrapers and black color buildings. Exactly the opposite of where he's been living for the past 7 years. 

Bruce is near huge, wooden open door.  He doesn’t rush to come in, what is waiting inside might surprise him. After a month of looking for Jeremiah he is finally here to meet him, but suddenly all the braveness that he imagined he would have when the moment will come has betrayed him. Not only the excitement and need for action got Bruce shaking. Of course, he was very ready to get his revenge for Selina, for Alfred and for Gotham, hold Jeremiah at gun point, but he couldn’t  suppress the fear forcing itself on Bruce. _It is normal for a man to fear._ Alfred’s words echoed in Bruce’s mind before he gathered all the strength and stepped into the building. 

The place was empty and almost looked like an old theatre. But the floor was making Bruce question that. They were made out of marble, the color of dark red, almost black in such bad lightning. That made him think that he is in a church, but the outside really didn't look like one's.

Bruce shivers as he realizes that he is alone, in a dark unknown place waiting for the man who might have invited him here to send him to heavens. Bruce looks over his shoulder, at the door which were still open as if asking ' _are you sure?_ ' The temptation to walk forward is irresistible and he forgets about everything behind. 

"Good evening, Bruce." A step echoes in the empty space and so does the voice, well known to Bruce. He jumped and tried to spot Jeremiah, but the darkness is blinding. A voice like Jeremiah's really does sound creepy in an empty, echoing place like this. 

Bruce doesn't answer, his words would be full of fear and unsureness and it's not the emotion he wants to translate. His shaking fingers reach for an old gun that Alfred gave him. _Be safe_. 

He points it at nothingness. A soft wind tickles his skin and that gives away that Jeremiah is much closer than he expected. He can feel a cold breath against his neck, Bruce trembles as just as cold hand touches his, the one that is stretched out, holding a gun that is not making Bruce feel any stronger. Long fingers warp around the gun and with a little push remove it from the other's hands, leaving him weaponless. 

"You won't be needing that." Jeremiah says, his words sweeter than honey. Bruce can hear the gun being unloaded and being safely put away in one of Jeremiah's pockets. He finally feels like facing him and turns around. 

Jeremiah's pale skin was almost glittering even in such lightning, red lips making contrast with it. He was wearing his usual clothes, a long coat and a hat, Bruce wasn't sure of the colors but what other than purple and green?

"Jeremiah," Bruce approaches the man, trying to hide any emotion that might show through his trembling voice. Even those can have an echo in such an empty place. "may I ask about the choice of the spot?" 

"Ah, yes..." Jeremiah chuckles. "I like abandoned churches." He says throwing his hands up and looking around. "Even after all they went through they seem to be so alive." Who could have thought, really. Bruce clenches his teeth, impatient to spill out all that he has to say. More so, what he wants to do to Jeremiah. He can hardly hold his hands from attacking Jeremiah, making the man bleed and this way answer for his actions. 

Jeremiah notices the tension that Bruce is radiating, his eyebrows visibly furrowed and nails digging into his palm. 

"Such a fighter you are." Jeremiah says as he takes another step, a very small one since there was already just a few centimeters gap between the two. Bruce's brain froze. He tried to step back but his body just didn't listen. The only thing he could really do at the moment was breathe, but even that became harder when Jeremiah was so dangerously close, his unnaturally cold breath brushing Bruce's nose. 

"Do you believe in..." Jeremiah stops with his blood red lips ready to continue, but they don't. From a form of o they curl into a smile, white teeth showing. Bruce just stands there like a statue, unable to move or say anything. "I'll show you." 

Bruce's heart hits like a drum, ready to beat right out of his chest. The words could mean anything, coming from a person such as Jeremiah it was hard to believe that they had any positive meaning. Nor could Bruce explain the sudden stillness in his body, muscles refusing to function. 

He feels a cold hand on his, still clenched into fists ones. Jeremiah applies slight pressure to the wrists as he pushes Bruce back with his knee, softly enough not to hurt him. Bruce tries to protest, but none of that seems to be working. His back bumps into a marble wall, a cold thumb pressing into Bruce's wrist, right where the vein is. He can feel his own pulse every time it hits Jeremiah's finger, so wild. 

The time seems to disappear, Bruce feels numb and wants to talk, but it wasn't a part of Jeremiah's plan, who was now brushing the tip of his nose on Bruce's neck, smelling not only the incredibly expensive perfume, but the blood, the artery filled with the red life liquid that he's longing for so much. He could continue teasing, but the smell does it's trick and Jeremiah places his lips on Bruce's jugular and for a moment it feels like a soft kiss, but it's not. Two canines sink into the flesh, making a wound and blood gush from it, sending Jeremiah into a trans, something close to hypnosis. Bruce winces at the pain. Nothing that he couldn't take, but not what he expected when he came here. He feels a need to warp his hand around the other's back to support himself since the loss of blood seems to be taking effect pretty quickly. And who could have thought? Bruce's wrists suddenly are free, as if something has been unlocked. 

It's not logical. He should be using his free hands to push the man off, tongue able to move to talk and scream but he does none of that. He lets his muscles relax as he can feel himself falling into Jeremiah's grip, the same hands that were holding his wrists now on his back. The moans that echoed in the space taken out of context would look so wrong. But no one is here, except for the two. 

The pain slowly turned into a strangely pleasant aching, but it's over too soon. Two teeth like daggers were pulled out of the flesh, leaving a rather deep wound. Bruce winces as he registers what just happened. Jeremiah _literally_ drank from his artery. 

Jeremiah's eyes find Bruce's, blood on his lips almost invisible due to their natural color. He villainously grins at his victim as he lets the helpless body fall onto the ground. 

"So you are leaving me to die?" Bruce almost yells, pathetically, hearing Jeremiah slowly walking towards the door, not even looking back. But then he stops. Stops, and stands like that for a moment or two. Then dramatically turns his head to the right, enough to see Bruce. 

"Leaving? Yes. To die? You won't die." 

_Sigh._

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> There might be mistakes since I wrote this at like 1am out of boredom, but if you enjoyed please leave some feedback! Thank you!


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